Closed Pirates of the Hard Nox [archive]

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FANG

Leo darted down a road to the left, then slid into an alley to the right. Back and forth, back and forth he would switch directions until, finally as his breath ran ragged he stopped, sure that anyone chasing him had been lost for good. As black spots faded from his vision Leo looked around the narrow alley he had turned into, only now realizing that by losing potential pursuit he had also gotten himself lost.

A single moment of worry turned to one of confidence as he spotted the men gathered around a low table near the other end of the alley, voices raised in excitement as the one behind the table conducted some hidden movements upon its top. Leo straightened from the hunched position his fatigue had left him in, squaring his shoulders and walking over to the gathering confidently.

”You there! I seem to have gotten myself turned around. Could you point me to the Blacksmith Shop?”
 
FANG

The gentleman picked up the second blade and tested it edge, it’s craftsmanship and weight. A smugness fell over the balding smith as his finest weapon was inspected, grateful that the man’s eye had been so keen and his charade for the other blades was mostly over.

”Aye, sir, that point’ll hold longer than any competition. I’ll wager my pride on it. Your eye is as keen as your wit, that one there is probably the best steel I’ve ever hammered. Almost as hard as that cursed metal the child walked out with.” He put a hand atop his balding pate and smiled.

”Ten gold and she’s yours, with my guarantee that she will last a lifetime. Should my skill prove me wrong I will replace it and your gold if you live to tell me of it.” It was as bold a gesture as a smith could make. Failure in his craft usually cost more than gold for his customers, and he would rather they come back bragging of the shields torn asunder and hoardes turned away by the strength of his steel. ”You have the word of Seamus Greyhammer, the finest smith in Allegria. That my friend is worth more than gold and is stronger than steel.”
 
QUIRBLES

Emryk's eyes seemed to light up somewhat as the discussion turned to the woman's craft, and he admired the jewelry on display with a thoughtful touch of a talon to his chin. The pieces were certainly skillful, that much was true. As the Baron's gaze flitted from merchandise to merchant, a soft smile crested along his atypically sharp features. "Well, they're certainly beautiful. You've a fine eye. Is this why you desire my scales?" He couldn't help but chuckle, at that. "Well, it's certainly high praise. I doubt my scales are truly the quality you think, but if one happens to knock loose... I'll know who to send it to, hah." He wouldn't reach down to examine any of the wares-- that was far too rude, and he imagined that such a gesture was ill-received in a place with such lax security. Vendors were often quite defensive of their goods, though... the apothecary elf had been sleeping soundly in the midst of a festival.

"Unfortunately, I've no money to spend. I do wish you the best of luck in your endeavors, though." Emryk stated, offering the jeweler a hand to shake.

"Emryk. Unfortunately, I'm introducing myself as I leave, but... it was nice to make your acquaintance, miss...?"
 
HIGHVOLTAGE

Lucien chuckled approvingly. The blade felt good in his hand, and he could see that the blacksmith was not simply blowing smoke. One did not live as long as he had without gaining an eye for blades, especially of the type he tended towards. He set the blade back on the counter, perpendicular to himself and close, awaiting a scabbard for the blade. While the blacksmith fetched it, he reached into his coin purse and withdrew the ten gold, placing it neatly on the counter in a stack, his hand resting on it.

“Well then, Seamus Greyhammer,” Lucien said softly. “You had better hope your word endures. You have just sold your finest blade to Lucien Kilta, navigator on the Hard Nox.” He smirked, tongue running over the edge of one of his fangs.

“And my lifetime is longer than most.”

With that, Lucien left the coin, took the sword and scabbard, and exited the shop.
 
FANG

Trembling hands swept the ten gold coins into Greyhammer’s pocket, a bead of sweat upon his brow as the vampire left the shop. Slowly he wiped it away, his mind repeating the gentleman’s words over and over. His eyes brined with the vision of those razor sharp fangs. Everything had come together in that instant, the one-eyed fairy, a dead shot for the infamous ship. Lucien Kilta. The monster hidden behind the face of a man. The ephemeral man-child- well that one didn’t ring a bell but the danger the smith had been unaware of rankled the back of his tongue with metallic fear. Goddess willing that blade lasted a thousand years, else his grandchildren’s great grandchildren might suffer for his pride. For fuck’s sake, did he tell that monster his name and his wife’s? Perhaps it would be wise to consider relocation. He had heard legend of fine metals in the Ashtavan Isles.
 
SHODDYPRODUCT

Juniper scarcely had time to consider Nessa's offer before the captain spoke up again, elaborating on her earlier statement. It seemed to be something Nessa was previously aware of, something the changeling thought strange, having not been aware of the plan when the crew had stormed the Truth Teller, but Sinead's follow up made things more clear than they had liked. Solomon King had tried to broker a deal with the captain? He must be more mad than they thought. The realization, though, brought up memories best left in the past, of people and conditions alike. As the other two spoke, Juniper, with soap in hand, began to scrub vigorously at their arms, face, neck, everywhere they could reach. The soap began to go soft in their hand for a moment, with the sorceress too distracted to keep it in check, but they quickly realized and reined it in.

Before long, Alys had up and left, leaving the group in quite the rush. Juniper frowned during the scrubbing of their hair, displeased but understanding. It wasn't fun being near the captain when the fae empire came up, not even for them, and they weren't even considered fae anymore. The pair would have to catch up another time, then. Their focus shifted back to their companions.

"Probably off to admonish Caleb, I think. Or get money out of him. I heard she saved him during the raid, back in Fen Manor. No better time to ask for repayment than a festival."
 
ANNASIEL
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The man behind the counter was neither tan nor fair, but somewhere in between - dark hair descending around his face in waves from beneath the brim of his straw boater hat. He smiled a glittering smile, looking Leo up and down with amber eyes, as if judging him.

"Well, my friend, you're a far knock away from any smiths," he proclaimed shuffling a handful of well-worn cards back into his deck. "Can't say I know the way - but what's the rush? Why not stay a little and have some fun with me?"

Splitting the deck in two, he waterfalled the cards between both hands, seemingly levitating them in a rustling stream.

"Could make two pennies for every one you have. Go back to that smith a hundred gold richer."

He winked.
 
FANG

The crowd seemed to let the seated man speak, drawing Leo to a game with his cards. The other men laughed and gently nudged Leo toward the table, until he found himself pressed into it by their insistent hands. Leo’s eyes were wide for a moment, but the men backed away and the air returned to his lungs as stood before the card shuffling stranger.

”Well I don’t have a penny to trade you, so I guess I’ll just have to look somewhere else.” Leo peered around the men closest to the open streets as if he could find his destination waiting for him around the corner. If he could just get back to someplace familiar. Once he got his bearing it would only take a moment to find the stalls and the things Leo wanted to-

How was he going to buy things?

Leo turned his attention back to the shuffler. ”What if I offered these new boots? Caleb just gave the shop keep an entire gold piece for them.”
 
ANNASIEL

His smile widened, almost stretching from ear to ear. With a slam, he dropped the deck on the table, splaying out the cards in a fan.

"A gold, eh? Must be some nice boots!"

He leaned forward.

"Hm - let's start things off simple. We each get five cards. One of them's the queen of spades, one's the queen of clubs - we call them the spinsters. I start with that in my hand. We take turns picking - you start - and the person who's left with both spinsters loses." Sliding forward five cards from the spread, he took five himself, flipping it over to reveal the queen of spades. He flipped it back, shuffling his hand quickly. "Bet the boots for a gold, and I'll give you five if you win."
 
FANG

As the man set out the cards a savage grin met his wide smile from across the table. Leo had never played a game like this before, but it seemed quite simple. Leo didn’t even look at the cards he had been given, instead stacking them together and setting them to the side. A bit slowly he fumbled with the straps on the boots and pulled them from his feet with a satisfied sigh as the air once again cooled his soles.

Leo picked the cards up and set the boots down on the table in their place. He splayed the cards as the gambler did, holding them up to partially obscure his chin. ”Okay then. How do we know it’s over?” Leo’s grin didn’t falter at his inquiry.
 
FANG

The crowded men were laughing again, a grating sound that reminded Leo of crows around a freshly hung corpse. He pushed the cawing from his mind, focused on the cards and their pictures. The woman in black was the one to get rid of and to avoid. He had seen the man shuffle her into his cards. He was confident he knew which one it was.

”Second card from your left,” he said, pointing to the card in question without touching it before returning his hand to his side.
 
FANG

A soft sigh escaped Leo’s tensed frame, released breath he hadn’t realized he held as he turned over the red man with the stars. ”This is nearly as difficult as scrubbing the chamber pots,” Leo muttered as he examined the cards. Second from the right this time? Go from the left again? Leo bit his bottom lip as he considered.

”I’ll go with,” Leo said, hesitating with his hand hovering over the last card on the dealer’s left.”That one.” Leo poked his finger at the one on the opposite side. Nervously his foot began to tap with no rhythm.
 
ANNASIEL

The man looked expectantly - then frowned as Leo picked the five of diamonds. Raising his own hand, he hovered over the second from the left - then pointed at the furthest left instead.

"Your left. Let's see the damage."


 
FANG

Leo’s teeth clenched slightly as the man chose the card next to the one his hand had been over. Four stars were turned over, Leo’s brow beading with sweat as he tried his best attempt at clairvoyant divination. The grin that had nearly fallen away sprang back to life as he pointed to the very middle card on his opponent’s side.

”Its like dueling fate with your luck as a weapon,” Leo remarked as the tension fell away from his shoulders. The excitement had given itself over to blatant nerves, but as Leo gained bearing he realized it would matter little whether he lost or won. Those boots were foot prisons and he was as glad to be shed of them as he was those iron bars. He wiggled his toes in anticipation of the eventual conclusion of the strange card dance.
 
ANNASIEL

"Oh dear, oh dear." The man flipped the chosen card.


"Looks like somebody made a bad choice."


Sweeping his arms wide, he put one hand on the pair of boots and slid them over to his side of the table.

"Had a few close calls there. Think you almost got me." Another wink. "Guess you should go back to scrubbing those chamber pots!"
 
FANG

The boots were swiped away and Leo tilted his head to the side, eyes on the offending lady. A flicker, a spark of flame within his chest, and Leo unbuttoned the shirt from his torso and set it on the table. Next he set his new blade and the fluffy soft feather. Knuckles cracked as he set his hands on the table. The men behind him were quiet, small smirks gracing their gathered faces.

”Again.” The word was deeper, less flippant and more aggressive than his speech had been since boarding the Hard Nox. With nothing but trousers it was clear he meant no humor.
 
ANNASIEL

"Think you've got luck on your side, do ya?" the man replied cheerfully, shuffling the cards together, flipping them between his hands, and drawing five each. He pushed one across the table, then held up his own.


"Pick."


 
FANG

No smiles, no cawing crows. Only the cards and the flame. He forced his hands to relax, his jaw to unclench. As he extended his hand to point the flame rose in his chest slightly. With a barely visible shift Leo changed trajectory and pointed to the card in the very middle again. He let his gaze rise then, to meet the eyes of the card dealer with cold analysis.

Something told him the game was a bit more complex than he had originally thought. ”Lets get that one out of the way first.”
 
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